


Here’s to Never

by 4rcane



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Isekai, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4rcane/pseuds/4rcane
Summary: A boy stricken with grief decides to... not end it all and move forward, trusting a meaning he has yet to discover. Thrust into the other world he once longed for, he strives to find a way back home, to prove his resolve was not unfounded, whatever the hell the universe says.(This fiction is being posted under a different name on RoyalRoad.)
Comments: 1





	1. Prologue - Firelight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, (hopefully!) readers. My name is Arcane, though I usually go by Arc. I’m a high school student who’s been enamored with writing for a long time, but I’ve struggled to do more than conceptualize after a disastrously bad attempt that killed my motivation. This is my first attempt to go back in, and it’s a shitty isekai story.
> 
> I know. I know. That seems like a great jumping off point considering my anxieties.
> 
> But I think I’m a well-rounded enough person now to actually try writing something a little bit deeper than ‘this happens then this happens’. So, I’m going to give it another shot, and I hope you all will be with me to motivate me to continue on.
> 
> That being said, I’m not going to pull a 180 and delete this one at negative reception. My only goal is that it isn’t offensively bad enough that people read it to have a laugh with their friends. So, please, be as ruthless as possible with this melodramatic mess of a story I’m going to try my damndest to tell.
> 
> With all of that out of the way, I present to you: Here’s to Never.

# Prologue: Firelight

It was cold.

It was all so fucking cold.

On that day, that cursed day. 

The day that tore me apart and wove me back together past my breaking point. 

I can still feel the rain in my skin and hair.

My lungs contracting and pushing back against me.

The pressure on my shoulder from the backpack I never wore right.

The shoes I was laying out beside the rail. 

Most of all, I can still feel that oppressive numbness. The numbness that kept me docile, the same numbness that caused every nerve in my body firing against my actions and emotions. The numbness borne of apathy and perpetuated by a pressure I had put myself in, in the hopes of making a statement I can’t walk back away from.

Still, I didn’t jump that day. 

I don’t know why. I don’t know if I ever will. But beyond the crippling numbness and the uncaring eternity there was another truth in my heart, something I knew had to be true but couldn’t comprehend. It intrigued me. And it told me that I had a reason to live for.

In the same vein, it told me I had something to die for. A promise of release that wouldn’t, couldn’t come here.

Just as I looked over the edge, I remembered her talk with Leo. This was her fault. If not hers for leaving, then the cold, uncaring universe’s for taking her away. Picking on the life of an existential nobody for finding people to daydream with and tearing it away.

“Die in the company of the life you lived.”

I think I realized this isn’t what she meant. I don’t know what it did. I still don’t. But some place deep inside of my heart is telling me I’m right, the same circle of firelight that told me every insight I had come to learn before.

Afraid I would lose the truth I hadn’t yet grasped and lose the one thing I needed to find to move forward again. So I held on and kindled it, afraid it would die. I braved myself for more and more cold and numbness, my mind and soul frostbitten and dilapidated. Just to hold tighter onto the aimless endlessness I needed to sift my way through.

Nothing was easy. Even ending it all was hard. Not taking that step was even harder. Taking that next breath and every breath thereafter was the most difficult thing I had ever done.

Suffice it to say, I was pissed. And this bout of not-so-righteous fury may have primed me for what would come next. Just for the final tipping of the scales that came of it.

I threw my bag to the side, and something I had taken when I was picking up my ‘life’ to die alongside fell out.

Her ‘lucky dice’ she swore wasn’t weighted.

As usual, it landed on a 20. Despite myself, I smiled, and the numbness faded to the warmth I felt in my heart, staving off the cold and pressure. Pushing back on me and allowing me to remember everything I had once loved. And, somewhere I had given up on to get here, still did.

“Alright, you win. This is your last chance, alright?” I pleaded in the voice I hated to nobody in particular, the one that was always too high, the voice that sounded vaguely disgusted. The voice that spoke with an unnatural and disjointed tempo. 

This nobody in particular seemed to hear this very same voice. And the fucker took it as a challenge.

In the very next moment, as I turned to go pick up the dice for reasons I would figure out later, I saw the world go entirely dark. I figured it was a city-wide power outage, and the sky tearing apart in the next moment was just light pollution receding to give the (un?)lucky inhabitants of the area a rare view of the starlight our world was always meant to be plunged in.

Possibly a terrorist attack or something, if it’s on that scale.

Existentially terrifying, but overall unconcerning to me in that moment.

Until I remembered that wasn’t at all how light pollution worked. Then the rain stopped. Then the sky opened from a line across the night sky to a swirling array of colors and objects I had never seen or dared to imagine. 

Then the screams began, only to be drowned out in the world we had just learned was a hell of a lot larger than we had ever imagined.

—

My shock-filled expression that hadn’t at that point quite had time to transition from a grin warped into raucous laughter as I found myself in a world of sky. A boundless midday sky lay above and below me, and there were two suns chasing one another, their midpoint by my perception too bright to track my gaze to. I appeared to be floating in a likely astronomically impossible sky, being without a planet.

At first, I thought I was dead, having gotten my wish in an apocalyptic event of a sort.

I realized the wish granted to me was a far deeper one when I felt the ground. I was not standing on sky. The midday sunlight reflecting in full on the endless mirror of a flat gave away the fact that I was spirited away to wherever here was. 

Yes, I was standing on a salt flat. The one you see in a gif on a travel forum and are exceptionally disappointed to find they don’t actually look nearly so perfect. This one, however, was fantastically clear. My tentative footsteps created the only ripples I could observe in the reflection, and even then, I could barely notice the disturbance from merely a few feet away.

At that point, I was laughing so hard I was crying. And literally crying, mind you. It was difficult to pinpoint the emotion the tears came from. I wiped myself off, still wet and chilly and alone and shaking. But I was a pretty sore loser.

So, here I stand right now, laughing my ass off about my situation, not caring about my own safety, and idealizing the tales of defiance I had loved. I clutched the totally-not-weighted dice I had managed to pick up.

“Alright, have it your way. Don’t think I was lying about this being your last chance.”

Maybe it would be more defiant to pick up where I had left off and end it. But the firelight in my heart was burning louder and brighter than ever. I didn’t stop myself to consider that this was a dream, because this was exactly reality’s twisted sense of humor.

I took it as it came because I had no energy to do anything else.

Sadly, the shock I had felt upon arrival made even this virtue meaningless. Because things still stirred beneath their surface, and though I couldn’t see them, I could feel their ripples in my bones.

“If you want this to be a fair competition, you need to at least give me a chance,” I spat, and then I began to run. To where? I don’t know, but it would be better than here. Well, probably not, but fuck if I was going to wait to find out.


	2. Welcome to the Nexus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any formatting issues. I'm using some new software. I'm posting this chapter by chapter, but it's still very much a draft, so expect rewrites or backtracking before you get the final version. Similarly, if you have any criticism, please put it in the comments so I can keep it in mind moving forward and for said rewrite.

The good part was that whatever the things that were chasing me were absolutely were not ambush predators. Or their prey didn't have a sense of touch or sound. 

The second conclusion was growing increasingly likely for a similar amount of reasons.

1: I had seen no other sign of life on the surface.

2: It was hot. I didn't notice it at first. After all, I was wet and cold on arrival. But good lord, the albedo from the reflective surface made that illusion go away after a short while.

Coupled with the amount of energy it took to run on the unsteady salt and underlying mud, and I was being chased with no water in hundred-degree heat, with the nearest rocks to hide out on miles off. My mind wasn't functioning well, but I could connect a few dots. They led to the same question: The behavior of whatever was chasing me just didn't add up. If they weren't ambush predators, why would they chase something on the surface, as opposed to worms, or something? It didn't add up. But these lines of thought let an idea begin to take form in my head.

If they could follow me... Wouldn't that mean they tracked me through my movement?

This seemed like an important revelation, but I had no clue what to do with it. Not in the slightest. After all, if I stopped now, wouldn't they figure I had tired? Betting that surface-bound creatures weren't normal to them didn't seem like a bet I was willing to take. So, I grasped the light within me and ran forward.

Or so I say. I didn't gather any of the same resolve. My determination to live was already firing full throttle, after all, and my emotions had tired. Doubt began to set in. 

Not yet. 

The rock formations looked bigger, but no less far away. An island between me and the distant horizon of strangely shaped mountains of pure rock. Something else, however, did begin to come into view. Tears I didn't have the water to keep producing welled up in my eyes, so my image was blurred, but I could still distinguish.. something. Something far more alien than I had observed before in this world. A straight pillar of rock surrounded by clouds that seemed to be leaning back and slightly to the side, from my perspective. The difference was minuscule, but there. Dark clouds swirled around some areas, and I could see red glows spew from its sides. Like fallen stars, they made their way toward the ground.

There was no way that was lava, right? And.. What do I even do once I make it to the rock? My skin was drying, unknowns were literally under my feet, and on the off chance I survived long enough to reach my destination, for all I knew it was worse than it was here.

Not yet.

My world was beginning to spin and my vision was beginning to narrow. The heat only seemed to grow more intense. I felt like my body was about to peel itself. 

Over the course of the day, I felt my body pull everything it did and didn't have within it out, searching for every little tinge of energy it could get its hands on. 

I wasn't built for this. There's no way I'll survive. In a place like this, I doubt there'll be water anywhere close to here. I wasn't meant to live in the first place.

But...

But I still need to fucking try. If I can say I fought to live until my last breath, then the world will not have beaten me. 

I don't recognize cheaters, after all.

So I did. And the world closed in as my vision darkened. I would die on a floor of sunset.

Better than in some city's alleyway, at least.

\--

My final dreams were peaceful. I was sitting at the bottom of a cool blue ocean, sun flitting in from on high. I felt myself moving toward it, floating up and up and up and up as all else but the light fell away.

Then the water came crashing back in, and the light faded into a million stars, with a shadow standing over me. The shadow came into focus. It seemed vaguely dissatisfied with my existence.

I shot up and hit my head on something hard. Whatever the shadow was holding. Something metallic. It seemed light, but it remained impossibly steady as I hit it. The ground below me seemed more secure, too. There was nothing against my feet, and I was sitting on something cold and hard...

"Well, I didn't expect you to wake up so soon after that... unique display of yours."

I whipped my head around, not even questioning the person who had found me or how I got here. My gaze locked dead on to what I now realized was a canteen in the shadow's hands. I yanked it out, not consciously realizing it was probably empty after having it poured on me.

I fooled around with the cap, eventually just biting it off. I paid no heed to the person's amused expression and I chugged everything. Or, at least, I tried to.

However much I drank, there was always more. So, unwilling to give up, I drank and drank and drank until I felt my stomach was about to burst. I was sweating and panting by the time I was done. Then, I realized how cold I was.

Right, desert rules. Hot during the day, cold during the night. That's really fucked up, honestly.

I heard someone clearing their throat beside me, and I realized I was probably within their personal space. I backed up and spun around, holding the canteen close to me. And the amused grin hadn't left my savior(?)'s lips.

He was extremely attractive by human standards, but my adrenaline-fueled panic didn't let me register that much in comparison to his slit and fiery orange-red eyes, his.. antlers, and the fangs I saw when he opened his mouth earlier I just now realized he had. 

I pinched myself. 

He looked confused as I did that. Or... They, maybe. Or she. They dressed androgynously by human standards I was beginning to realize I couldn't use here. As much as I wanted to ask for pronouns, this could easily be a backward conservative society that would take this as a grave insult to his(?) masculinity. I still was half convinced this was all a dream, but nothing seemed to add up, at least emotionally.

I took my mind off of that. I figured I could just avoid the topic. I needed to remember I was in no immediate danger.

To show I relaxed a bit, I pushed my hands to the stone ground and rested back on them, lowering my shoulders. It was intentional and undoubtedly awkward. He (I'll assume he for now) looked curious as I did this, and apparently could soon not hold back a question as I made myself more comfortable.

"Why did you pinch yourself?" asked my antlered probably-savior in a language I had never heard. The words were alien, but something within me was 'feeling' what they meant. It was an odd feeling, and I felt so very vulnerable. Out of place, afraid, and with a deeply personal feeling within me speaking in intent. Was this a.. god of some sort? Was I actually in an afterlife? Or was this really just a dream? Unable to formulate my thoughts enough to actually come up with something to say, I dumbly parroted the first thought that came to my head.

"Oh, uh, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't dreaming."

Did that sound like a pickup line? 

"What is 'draheamin'?"

Not yet, apparently.

He poorly pronounced 'dreaming' in English, surrounded by sounds I hadn't ever heard. Was that something that didn't work with the translation? Maybe it would work if I explained it to him. My thoughts spiraling with theories about the translation gave me pause, but, in my droning voice I so hated, I did scrounge up an explanation.

"I.. Uh... When you sleep..."

I paused for a moment. He seemed to get that. So I continued.

"Those visions in your head that play out. The ones that keep your mind occupied. Those are dreams."

He looked confused. Actually, now he seemed skeptical.

"Are you trying to sell me something?" he asked, leaving my expression even more confused than when I learned he didn't seem to dream.

"What the hell? Who would go that far to sell someone something? I was dying in a strange location with no water to be found and you think I was here to sell someone something? If people do that, that's a poor business strategy."

He grunted and turned his head, but I think I saw a... a blush. A tinge of red on his face for just a moment.

"Well, I just figured you were trying to get some money out of me. Doesn't look like you have much on you," he huffed out. He sounded... angry? He looked to be similar in age to me, so I can see some immaturity, but usually, you'd try to be a bit more subtle about your childishness. Maybe business economics was a sore spot.

"That's fair. Uh... So where are we, exactly...?" I tentatively asked. I had been 'uh'-ing and 'ah'-ing a lot, but, in my defense, I had no clue who or what had saved me from a place that seemed utterly alien to me.

"You came here without knowing? At this time of year? Either you're a great liar or the luckiest man in existence. You're in the middle of the Daimoon Flats. Is that why you were running? The crawlers can startle some newcomers, but your guide should tell you they're harmless..."

I facepalmed. So they weren't chasing me to eat me. I was never in any danger. My mind flashed to Olivia. A conversation we had before it all happened. She told me I look back too often in search of something I won't find there. She would have told me there was nothing I could do, and that I made the right decision with what I knew. And that there was no changing it now.

Was I really loathing myself this much over something so insignificant? 

This was such a strange situation and I was alone and afraid. But I figured I'd try my best to look forward anyway. So, I took a deep breath and continued. The fiery-eyed person(?) in front of me seemed visibly irritated but willing to give me time. I'd thank him for that later.

"I didn't come here with a guide. Actually, I didn't come here at all. When I opened my eyes, I was here," I admitted. Maybe this wasn't a good thing to say, but I needed answers to latch onto. I needed to jump first now so I didn't keep stumbling around until I began holding myself back.

He seemed mildly amused earlier, but now he was staring at me dead on. It wasn't out of suspicion- Somehow, he seemed to get I wasn't lying to him. 

"Either you're an incredible liar with a Second-Classer's [Unintelligible] Obfuscation, or you've been caught up in an incident I don't think should be possible."

So the translation worked by telling me the most congruous concept to the words I know. It seems like that means whatever he said there was not a concept I was familiar with.

"What is a... [Unintelligible]?"

"By the old gods, you aren't lying, are you?"

He looked utterly dumbfounded at the question I asked. So, it seemed like that was something important. Maybe it was related to our translation?

"Is that the thing that's letting us talk?"

"That, and so much more. I can't understand how you could not know. Do you not have a Skill? I thought it was something relating to your Dah-Reeming. You're not even a dragon, are you?"

"Wait, are you trying to say you're a dragon? Like, with wings and fangs and fire and stuff?"

"So you know what dragons are, but you don't know what a [Unintelligible] is?"

"Well, they were just fiction where I'm from. Do you have wings?"

There was a sparkle in my eyes at this point, and I crouched up to get a better look at his back. Sadly, there were no wings tucked away. 

In a fit of sudden panic, I tried to check to see if he was offended. Thankfully, there was no offense in his expression. He seemed to be pleased with it, even.

"Even where we don't exist, our greatness is still recognized. Fitting. So, what do your people call themselves?" He closed his eyes and puffed his cheeks. For some reason not questioning.

"Uh, we're humans. Or... I'm a human. I don't know if there's a we anymore. We thought we were alone back in our world. This doesn't seem like the same reality, it's all so alien," I replied, reminiscing. If there was a dragon here and I was assuming I wasn't dreaming, I may not even have been in the same universe. There were things I had seen and

"To have made it here by teleportation, what strength are you hiding?"

"Is there something special about this... Place?"

"This world, actually. It's sealed off for beings without sufficiently powerful [Unintelligible]s through supernatural means. Usually, you'd need to walk here, but I've tested your strength. Unless you're hiding an astronomical intellect, there should be no way for you to get here through a [Unintelligible, but a different word this time], let alone through spatial phenomena."

I felt vaguely insulted by a few things said there, but I could forgive that for now. There was something else, however, that I couldn't let wait.

"Wait, you can walk to worlds, how does that work?"

He seemed surprised but as if this was expected. In fact, he looked excited.

"You've never seen the Web? Then look up, and have a nice belated Viewing."


	3. Surfing the Web

I looked up and so much more than the stars stared back down. The pillar I had been oriented toward extended up to a place I could now see- a massive sphere of boiling orange and swirling gray, pressure building and small gusts of smoke disappearing down the pillar, undoubtedly resulting in some strange volcanic rift in the center of the snowless mountains. At first, I thought that was all it was, but the beams of starlight which illuminated this unmissable and otherworldly scene gave way to notice of something so very much grander.

I was oriented now and could notice the night sky of this world. Or, well, I didn't think that was singular anymore. 

I saw a scene I would carve into my mind because it reminded me of the strange beauty of the coldness of our existence. I saw glowing lifelines between spheres and planes in a myriad of colors, branching out from one and to another and from there into two more. A massive world in this neighborhood, so close I felt I could reach out and touch it, stared back into my eyes with visible mountain ranges of raw ice and oceans covered in mists. Another gazed at me, more subdued and fiery, this one a disc of clouds and rocks that looked like a galaxy, connected to another world by a shattered bridge swirling around a ray of light. 

This bridge extended from a planet I could see was bustling from many worlds away- though it was worth noting these worlds ranged in size between that of a large meteor and that of a small moon- filled with moving metal objects and buildings that floated across the myriad 'Worldbridges' stemming from it. Their absurd scale and complexity in view for stargazers in this planetary sector.

On the other edge of my vision was a gray world of what were likely canyons and cliffs, bursting at the seams with green forests and sky blue rivers, running between these cliffs like veins. 

Yes, all across my vision, definable and undefinable, I could see objects and colors suspended between one another, a diverse variety of astral shapes and planets so small it should be impossible to have such variety in ecosystems. Instead of a moon, the stars watched over a structure of objects connected through bridges tangible and intangible.

I so sorely wished that I had a telescope.

Far off, so far I could barely see, equidistant to the space between the Earth and her moon, and a lot smaller than said moon were that the case, a blue planet called out to me. It wasn't earth, there wasn't enough land. But it was that same comfortable shade of ocean blue that told something deep in the inner reaches of my mind, something so fundamental and tied to our state of being we would never notice it without exceptional circumstances, that it was like home. It wasn't home, mind you, but it told me that I was still connected to it. 

I stood up, entranced, enchanted, and utterly dumbfounded at the wondrousness of it all. I stumbled to the edge of the island of rock we stood on, and stared across the edge, the same image opening up under me. 

I stepped onto it. I walked forward, making footprints in the stars.

I saw myself, too, caught between two horizons of night. A pale face not touched by the sun with any consistency, puffy jet-black hair that laid on its terms and not mine, soft features, a slight physique. It was all average to below average, except the saturated eyes I now knew was in that same homebound hue as the Blue Planet's.

"It's... Thank you."

My guide, as I was beginning to think of him as, only smiled, the first purely happy one I had seen. One not bound by pride, or playfulness, cockiness, or competitiveness, but one simply gleeful to see another experience a mutual love for something. He wore it well.

It had been a long fucking day. And, as what looked to be a holographic screen entered my vision, I didn't doubt it would end up even longer.

-

"So, to have not seen the Web of Worlds before, where exactly are you from?"

He knew that I wasn't one of his people- dragons, apparently- but if this was the only night sky he had ever known, it made sense he was curious. Still, it didn't seem absurdly uncommon to him. Maybe he assumed I was from one of those planets that looked overcast. What did seem curious to him, however, was the peculiar manifestation in front of me. He didn't seem surprised by its existence, but rather the form it took. Maybe RPGs weren't a thing here?

I guessed that I wouldn't get to ask how the sun worked quite yet. Even if this was a big planet and gravity worked similarly to earth, the sun shouldn't be orbiting it. And during the daytime, the sunshine was clear, so the Web couldn't be orbiting it...

'Ah, whatever, it's irrelevant right now, still...'

"Excuse me?" the dragon in front of me asked, laying his hand on his fist.

"Oh, um, sorry, I spaced out, lost in thoughts and all. I'm not from the Web of Worlds, I think." I responded. At this point, I trusted him, and being honest about my situation would be the best way for me to get the answers I needed.

"Are you sure it wasn't a Zokich simulation? I know they've been looking into alternate realities. Maybe something went wrong and your memories stayed sealed." he offered very unhelpfully.

"Well, now I'm not, but that's a question I am absolutely not prepared to deal with. Speaking of, do you know what... this is?" I shot back, moving on from that topic and vaguely gesturing at the thing in front of me.

"Yeah, you should only show that to people you trust."

"Then don't look."

"Ah, there's not much to see at the moment."

"I feel vaguely insulted by that statement."

He just smiled. Not in a pure way, but in the way you'd smile at a dog chasing its own tail. I would've punched this guy in the face if he didn't have a solid head on me. On top of likely having some sort of fantasy bullshit powers.

"But still, Visualization, huh? As far as mental enhancements go, that one probably has the most use, but it probably won't get you too far here. I'm just curious why there's only one node, and why it's immediately 2/10..."

He was referring to the text on the screen in front of me, which was connected to some part of me I had never felt before and cannot describe. If I were told I had to, I would probably describe it as connected to the thing that separated 'me' from the 'world around me'. 

'Wonder what Descartes would have to say about that,' I idly wondered.

The text in question appeared to read as follows:

'Soul Skill - Visualization

\- Visualization: 2/10'

It was displayed on a holographic screen similar to that of an RPG interface, if you were to take a generic version of it. Some gold embellishments on the edges framing a transparent blue screen, with golden text upon it. Way too gaudy, but apparently they weren't all like this, so it may have been my fault.

"Do you know what your Manifestation represents? Mine's a plaque, and I don't think I've ever seen one I didn't recognize," he seemed to let loose on his own, obviously thinking about it.

"It's reminiscent of some games we had back on our world. I didn't play too many, though. Only something similar with some friends," I replied to his mumblings.

"Who is we? What do you people call yourself?"

"Humans. How do you close it?"

"I guess... How would you usually close one of those?"

I didn't know. I thought for a moment and swiped it away with my hand. That seemed to do the trick, but I could still feel it in that weird borderline between me and not me. I couldn't get the information from it in that state, but I felt like I'd know when something changed. Which was strange, but thankfully I knew I could force it to not manifest. I felt a little bit different, too. I don't know what it was, but I felt like I could feel that border in the world around me. It seemed to ebb and flow at a strange frequency, and I felt it dance around and crackle above me like a flame.

"So, uh, what does Visualization do?"

I stared up at the sky again, pulling myself away before I spaced out again. He seemed to shift and gave me a look of almost... Pity. Maybe it was a bad skill? It certainly didn't sound too impressive.

"It's rare. Not just for us, as most in that archetype are, but in general. Apparently, it has advantages in using Catalysts, like this," the Dragon paused, and gestured toward his endless canteen, "but that's all we know."

"What's your Soul Skill, then?"

"Currently, it's known as the Inheritor of the First Flame, my family's adaptation of the Innate Bound Flame skill," he replied quickly as if he wanted to be asked this, with no small amount of pride.

I figured I wouldn't let him know it meant nothing to me.

"What does it do?"

"Ugh, humans."

I should have lied about my species' name. I wish I were clever enough to predict this.

-

So, apparently, it was an extension of the bound flame ability focused on full-body usage. Apparently, the Bound Flame skill usually evolved by putting it into a specific area where it can release from. The eyes may make it fast and long-range, the hands may make it good at enchanting weapons, the legs may allow for it to be expelled for mobility. The ability started with making 'veins' of fire through a painful process to edit the Imprint enough for evolution against its nature forcefully.

At least, apparently. I had no idea what the hell that meant, but asking more questions meant fueling the Dragon's ego. Apparently, it meant a jack-of-all-trades sort of fire magic that could have more interesting abilities later. Abilities that he claimed to possess, although I hadn't gotten information on what, exactly, those words were. Still, I confirmed he could create fire, which was enough for the cold of the night. It was interesting, though I have a burn mark from when he tried to make a few dancing tongues of flame for ideal coverage, forgetting that fire does hurt most things.

I almost grumbled 'God, Dragons...', but my primal instincts told me that would be a bad idea.

We went to bed soon after. I spent a long time star(?)gazing to keep my head away from the uncomfortable stone. It was cold, and eventually, my shivering prompted my companion to give me his blanket. It was sort of warm, but a bit scratchy, obviously made to be light and warm rather than comfortable. In its own way, though, it was cozy. It was a bit easier after that, though I did feel bad for him. He seemed fine, but I wasn't sure if he was putting on a tough front or actually fine. Fantasy bullshit withstanding, it could easily have gone either way.

"Human, I know it's a bit late to ask, but what's your name?" I heard a voice from behind a nearby rock. Apparently, it was cozier, but I liked the company of the stars and worlds.

And, it seemed that him not offering a name wasn't because of an obscure tradition that placed great importance on names, for one reason or another.

But it gave me a question I didn't know how to answer. I hated my name, and I hated what it carried with it. But... Offering a different one would only be the escape I promised I wouldn't let myself have. The baggage tied to it holds me down, but it grounds me in the same way. Letting it go for a lighter, more aesthetically pleasing weight, it didn't sit right with me.

Not yet, once again.

I tried to tell myself that a name wasn't everything, but it was sometimes so hard to distinguish between a comfort and a coward's way out.

At this point, the silence had gone on long enough that I was likely assumed to still be sleeping. I needed to say something, but I couldn't force the lump in my throat out. It felt like knives to say.

"For now, just call me Leaf," I said. The word felt so easy to say, so comfortable, and I could feel some pain receding.

And I was absolutely terrified of that. 

I heard him shift and pause too. Maybe he had concerns with his name, too. There was an obvious idea that went through my head, but I figured I wouldn't construct a fanfiction of a life story for him until I knew a little bit more about him.

"Nice to meet you then, Leaf. I'm Rilu. Oh, did I tell you we need to get out of here two days from now?"

I didn't want to sleep tonight anyway.


	4. Chasing the Outpost

I didn't say anything else that night. I probably should've, but I had too many questions, and getting more answers would in turn create more questions. As it always tends to do, even if we don't know the questions we have immediately.

I fell asleep far more easily than I should have, considering how sore I was, but it appeared unconsciousness was no substitute for actual rest. I didn't think about it much, since I was so deep in my own head, but I fell asleep sore, tired, sick, and bruised in ways I hadn't been before. I felt like a pile of sludge masquerading as a human, in constant pain, unable to move or interact with the world. Deep inside of myself, deep enough to not notice the outward suffering.

I suppose the worlds in the sky were some respite. Stars were much like ancient corpses whose legacy we only just now see. They were echoes. But the planets here were living amidst the night, evidence of things being built or destroyed or changed or moved was evident in this impossible stellar mosaic. They weren't echoes, they were a gaze into the potential and beauty of life, a moving picture of people wading through the same existence I was.

My final thought before I slept was 'I think I could get used to this'.

Beauty had a way of dulling pain. At least for someone like me, who kept their eyes ahead of their hands.

-

Still, as the sun rose and that beauty could only offer respite in my memories, however strangely vivid they appeared to be, the pain was... Far less dull. It wasn't exactly sharp or blunt, either. The best way I could describe it was weighty, a symphony of tiny sores and fatigues and discomfort from my body telling me about things that I needed. Still, with the morning, my growing need for water could overshadow those a bit. Oddly, it was almost relieving, to have an elephant in the room to focus on...

Until a voice I hoped I wouldn't hear anytime soon pulled me from my musings.

"Human, it's time to get going, I know you're awake."

I groaned. Even the cold, rocky ground felt better than getting up sounded.

"I'll leave you behind."

That got me going. I shot to my feet, wincing a bit at the motion, knowing doing things slowly would be harder in the long run. After catching my breath for a second, which Rilu thankfully didn't comment on, I handed my blanket over to Rilu. Speaking of which, he was wearing light robes, with only a small satchel tied to his waist. Did he only have a blanket?

Or, the more excitingly probable solution, he had an inventory, or, rather, that satchel was a bag of holding. I figured I'd give it a test, but there was one problem- Should I act nonchalant, or excited? I didn't know how rare or expensive these were, but having any knowledge at all may seem suspicious. Even knowing about dragons was probably only believable through the mechanisms of the translation approximating concepts and the subtle differences between what we knew.

So, I decided to just be direct. I didn't exactly have a choice.

"Where'd you put the water?" I asked, my words a bit stiff. I was a really bad liar, but I think this could just be seen as being tired and confused. My voice wasn't exactly buttery smooth in the first place.

"Already? We've not even stepped back onto the flats, we've been walking for eight minutes and forty-two seconds."

I assumed that the specific time I interpreted was a result of a different unit of measurement, rather than Rilu counting precisely. 

"You forget I'm just a puny human who, might I remind you, has never needed to walk more than twenty or so miles in one sitting."

"We can rest once we reach the Outpost. I told you we need to be out soon, so stop complaining," he responded tiredly. It appeared he wasn't much of a morning person either, he seemed a lot more energetic yesterday. I wondered why he ended up saving me and going to these lengths. Before I could think too deeply into that, the canteen I drank out of yesterday was in Rilu's hands as I took my eyes off him.

Effortlessly, he tossed it over with a tiny motion that should not have carried it to my position a few meters to the left and slightly behind him. It seems he really was holding back. 

I had kept the blanket, mind you. I didn't want a sunburn, and I could deal with an assumption that humans got weirdly attached to their blankets before I could deal with someone calling me weak for being afraid of the sun.

I reminded myself I really needed to ask about the sun. But I had other things to worry about.

"I'm pretty sure you've been trying to get me to ask, but I really need to know. Why do we need to get out in two days?" I asked, breaking the silence between a sip of water. 

"Well, it's best for someone as weak as you to not be trapped in Ash Season," he responded with only a hint of cockiness in his voice, he truly believed he was stating a fact. Which, assuming what he had said so far was true, it probably was. Someone holding my water supply and who had saved me wouldn't really have a reason to lie about that. Still, I felt a bit of frustration at him trying to toot his own horn. Er... Antlers? I'm sure there's a pun about Dragon anatomy in there somewhere.

At least before I reminded myself that tends to come from a place of deep insecurity for other aspects of oneself, which gave me no small amount of satisfaction to know. Even if that were just the standard for Dragons. I always saw them presented as prideful creatures, after all.

Wait, did I miss the point?

"...Ash Season?"

"Tch, you don't even know about Ash Season?" he responded sarcastically in a voice that poorly belied the fun he was having with this. He said nothing more, prompting me to speak myself. (It's also worth noting that he said 'sets of 11 months', though from now on I will be approximating measurements.)

I knew what he wanted me to do, but that didn't make me happier about it. If only he could've been a bit more like Leo. He enjoyed being the expert, but he was at least earnest in sharing his admittedly impressive knowledge. Insecurity and passion should go hand and hand. Even at, I begrudgingly admitted to myself, the most basic level.

"No, your highness," I replied, being as over the top in humility as possible, to the point of being sarcastic, "This inferior servant knows absolutely nothing of this world, and humbly seeks your vast knowledge of this world to guide him."

I embellished my speech with a curt bow and open my eyes.

Sadly, my act only seemed to encourage him.

"Of course, my lowly subject. It is the lord's responsibility to educate those below him, after all. You see, if your tiny brain is capable of understanding, the pressure of the ash building in the Forge's atmosphere," he vaguely gestured toward the planet above the distant peaks, hazy while suspended between the blue sky, "and it releases through the World-Bridge to cover the Daimoon Flats for a few months. High temperatures and a hostile environment down here, but a temporarily slightly more livable environment up in the Forge as the atmosphere reconstructs itself."

Despite myself, I smiled a bit. It seemed he was glad to have someone to talk to. And, thankfully, he didn't keep up the act through his infodump. On top of that, I had verified he is comfortable with a male identity. Which, well, was the least of my worries.

Small victories.

"So, uh, 'milord', why are we going toward the giant volcanic death sphere?" I asked, and he seemed to deflate a bit at the question. As much as I did want to ask how the atmosphere around World-Bridges worked, too, that was a very small concern at that moment.

We stepped over onto the salt, something in me feeling like I was about to fall, an illusion that quickly passed. Some vibrations quickly began brewing below us. Apparently, these 'crawlers' were harmless, but it still sent a chill up my spine, making me walk a bit more carefully against my will. I didn't think this would much change Rilu's opinion of me after everything else, anyway.

"The outpost is that way, and in the direction we came from, there isn't much in the way of civilization without a far longer walk. I also don't want to need to walk around the Flats, since the ash can sometimes escape the area and cause fires."

What kind of fresh hell was this planet?

-

"This is the fourth time you've asked for a refill in the past five minutes," Rilu grumbled as I wiped my mouth. I didn't know how he hadn't needed water yet. At this point, I mostly just accepted the fact that he had some sort of supernatural physiology that made him need little water.

And, as it turned out, the canteen wasn't limitless. It needed... something, I assumed magic or something, to keep working. Not mana, apparently, as when I asked Rilu just said that the word that couldn't be translated needed to stimulate it. Apparently, the canteen was something known as a 'Catalyst. I'd need to learn what the word meant before I could get an explanation on those, but I think I could feel it.

The weird connection I exerted upon the world around me. In line with my skill, I tried to visualize it, making it an aura or a fire or a force around me. But nothing felt... Right. The closest I got was the flame concept. Maybe it needed emotional significance, like the firelight that I used to define my ill-conceived meaning? Still, I couldn't think of a way to translate scenes like that into the form it took.

The most abstract thing I tried was some pseudo-philosophical musings on how memories connect us to the world around us, but that only seemed to take me further away. In fact, I felt my sense of this... Thing, whatever it was, getting more distant and nebulous as I tried. But working on it was the only thing that distracted me from my mounting fatigue. So, all I could really bring myself to hope it didn't fuck me over in the future. So, I went back to fire, and tried to separate the aspects of it to see what made it 'work'. The trial and error refining gradually became more difficult, though.

-

Soon, we managed to make it to another rock-island. We took a bit of a break, for me, mostly. I paused working for a bit and figured I should ask for help, but I didn't really know what to ask about. I had asked Rilu how he envisioned his 'thing I cannot pronounce', which only served to net me a stare of confusion. I wondered if they took a more direct path to sensing it, too, but I was only told, again, that it's impossible to 'sense' whatever it was. Strange, because I could feel it a bit, although it was yet another feeling I couldn't quite describe in words. Maybe it had something to do with my skill. 

Apparently, using a catalyst required you to attune to it.

"How do you attune to a Catalyst?" I asked, thinking I may be onto something for the fourth time that day.

"You feel the Catalyst, spend time with it, and focus on it. Eventually, you'll feel a connection grow," he responded, a bit less grumpy than this morning, apparently. Maybe he felt I could contribute something because of what he heard from records of my Skill?

"So you can only sense certain results of your Ja-goh-roo-ah?"

"That is nowhere even close to how you pronounce it. But, yes, it's a part of us. We can't consciously control it, but Catalysts are influenced by living beings' [Unintelligible]."

I didn't think the thing I felt was wrong, though. But I also doubted any society would be less advanced than what some kid could figure out in an afternoon.

But I figured I would pursue this hunch regardless. Maybe Dragons just didn't have the skills to advance in this area. They seemed pretty advanced, but maybe they didn't consider this topic much. This seemed like extremely basic knowledge to Rilu, after all.

I looked at the canteen in my hands and took one last sip before we got going again. Rilu seemed a bit worried as we left. He knew we wouldn't make it out on time, and he also knew I wasn't capable of going faster.

I don't know if it was placebo or not, but the Forge looked a tiny bit darker, and it felt as if there was just a bit more lava spewing down the World-Bridge.


	5. Connecting the Dots

I had spent some time considering on our walk. Not what needed to be considered, mind you, but figuring out an appropriate word for the concept Rilu kept referring to. I eventually settled on the word 'Imprint' after posing a few questions for basic descriptions. He most likely saw me as an idiot, which stung a bit, but it was probably true. 

In any case, Imprint wasn't entirely accurate, but it got the point across. It was like a conceptual weight an object had over the fabric of our reality. It could be considered a soul, and it represented the very essence of one's being, though it had certain important parts to it. At least apparently, those 'important parts' held no context to me, so I couldn't explain them. Especially after Rilu began rambling again. With him, it was difficult to know if he was trying to prove himself better or merely really into the subject.

Well, motive was rarely perfectly pure or impure, so it really could be both. I didn't know enough about him to really say, but I needed something to think about, and the only thing I recognized in this place was people thus far. Hard to grasp onto anything else. So, my amateur psychoanalysis would have to do.

But I digress. Am I as bad about rambling as he is? Regardless, I think I was beginning to get Imprints and Catalysts. I had been given a few items to poke at and prod. My favorite so far was a blob of liquid metal that apparently could be reshaped at will with attunement and hardened with mana (what I decided to call the energy Rilu referred to). I still didn't know how to actually access mana, but apparently, in any case, there was no way for me to do so quite yet.

The problem is that apparently you weren't supposed to be able to sense them, but I could. I think, at least, it was strange. I couldn't feel it, but the more I thought, the more I could tell what was right and wrong about it, and I was getting a bit closer as I dissected Rilu's observation. It very well could have been placebo, so I didn't bother mentioning it to him yet. If I engaged beyond questions, it would just give him something to make fun of me for later about how stupid I was to make observations when I knew so little.

Huh. Later.

The word tasted acrid to my inner voice. I don't think the reason was particularly difficult to see.

Because I knew it now. After all of this, I was going to die.

I wondered what it was I did wrong. Did I not push myself hard enough? Did I go the wrong way? Have the wrong encounter?

I could accept bad luck, but the first option terrified me. That my resolve to live could be too little to live constantly on the edge of death to make it out.

In the end, it didn't really matter. It wasn't anything I could perceive, humans just didn't think on this scale. Maybe some creature in this universe did, but that creature just wasn't me.

It was just me trying to think rationally about a fictional game with reality I had made up. But it didn't matter. Why try to grow when faced with impending doom?

But it felt like admitting defeat to just make my peace. I... Didn't have another option, though. 

I slapped myself in the face and kept walking. We were approaching another small stretch of rock, with Rilu walking further ahead than usual. Well, usual with regards to the short time we had spent together. I was happy to step onto more solid ground, but my legs still felt weighed down. I took a breath and didn't let myself stop me.

"If you were alone, how long would it take for you to make it out of here?"

He hesitated for a moment, no doubt moving his thoughts through a complicated framework of emotion and intent.

"...Not long," he replied simply. 

It was a bit less detail than I had hoped for, but altogether expected. He hadn't gone into any specification on his capabilities, likely not wanting to startle me, conscious of my situation and standards.

I wondered why someone like him would care. I supposed he did save me, so there was either a part of him I couldn't see, or he was working toward an end I couldn't know.

What I did know was that he could most likely get out of here in a few hours if he was that far ahead of me in scale. Maybe even less than that. For all I knew, every dragon could move at Mach 10.

But for one reason or another, he either couldn't or wouldn't take me. He had done enough, so I didn't mind if it was the latter.

"I know I won't make it, you know," I called forward, confronting the idea we had both been ignoring.

He tilted his head, looking away from me.

I spoke again as we reached the rocks.

"Let's take a break, I'm getting tired."

"Very well. Make it quick, though."

I sat down on a particularly comfortable looking rock before replying.

"Sit down with me. I don't know if I'll be able to make this quick. Can I vent to you a bit?"

He didn't bother responding to that, I took that as a go-ahead.

"I'm really tired. In general. I feel more driven than I ever have in my life, but I've lost my destination at the same time."

Rilu looked conflicted for a moment. But he seemed to be paying attention, at least, based on his next question.

"I take it that you're trusting me with your memory?"

"Good to know the person's attentive, at least," I said as I weakly grinned at him before sighing and continuing, "I... Lost a very good friend recently. Someone who was always there for me in my worst moments. I only realized after she took her own life that the connection wasn't two ways. I regret it. I regret everything about it. It's all over, and all I could do for so long was look to the past and think about all of the signs I didn't see, all the times I should have actively reached out to her as she did for me."

I took a deep breath.

"I guess I've been caught up with people a lot more interesting than me from the start. I never really wanted to go out of my comfort zone, but they all gave me that momentum. My life felt like an illusion, and it was hard to not feel like a side character as drama I thought meant the world happened around me. But we still stuck together, even if sometimes we fell apart..."

I knew I was trailing off. It was difficult to find the words to say, a way to say I always felt like I was being given something I never earned, and that became the nail that broke the illusion, with her death the sledge. 

"I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't know what the hell I want to say. What the fuck do I do in this situation? Reflect on how the life I promised myself was just getting started was torn away from me before I could even begin to realize I didn't have the resolve or passion for it? There's never been a simple answer, and it's selfish to rant about that frustration to someone who can't know the depth of it all," I spoke, letting my thoughts free. But it didn't feel like I was really expressing them. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't translate that into words. But my voice was both full of passion and tentative, dripping with self-doubt.

I hated it even more than usual.

There weren't even tears welling up in my eyes. I wasn't sad. I just didn't know how to cope with a fresh start. I just had no idea what I wanted. And I was whining about it to someone I didn't know the slightest thing about personally, circumstantially on the verge of death.

"Ah, Gods damn it," this time, Rilu spoke, "I get it, but I don't like all this put on me. I said I'd remember for you, but it'll be hard if you're not just a bit better at expressing yourself."

Oddly, I wasn't disheartened by this. Usually, even if I agreed, the truth still tended to hurt. Maybe I knew my annoyance wouldn't change anything.

I just sat there, looking at him. And he looked back, with a fiery gaze. The sort of gaze that came from someone who desperately wanted to seem flippant and easygoing, but got easily caught up in things, when their attention has been caught. I should know about that well. After all, I've looked in the mirror.

So, I stayed quiet. Maybe if I got his two cents, I'd be able to begin to string something together.

"I'm a Duelist," Rilu finally said, breaking the silence, "I know you don't understand classes, but know that they're all meant to fulfill a certain role so that they can grow, so that their Records can fuel our Imprints."

I understood 1/3 of those concepts now, which was an improvement. I knew the question the dragon wanted me to ask.

"Then... What's a Duelist meant to do? Duel?"

He seemed relieved. Apparently, he had been severely doubting my ability to pick up on social cues. Which, well, fair enough, honestly.

"There is purpose to them as well. The role of a Duelist is to represent all of dragonkind, all of the Nexus, in single combat. It requires one to embody the power of their people in skill and intensity. Because of this, the growth of the class is... difficult for those not in a position of power in our society."

"So you're some bigshot noble, then? Why're you out here?"

"The answer to the first question answers the second. I was a 'bigshot noble', as you so eloquently put it. I was the heir of my family, known for their unique practice of the dragons' Intrinsic Skill."

Through context clues over the past day or so, I gathered that an Intrinsic Skill was something everyone in a species had the disposition to awaken. It would make sense that humans were particularly good at vivid creativity, at least, if Visualization was actually our Intrinsic Skill. It seemed a bit useless compared to magic powers, but I always did feel we were at our best with our creativity, what I would consider the core of human greatness. 

It felt really strange thinking of humans in the context of other species. And also maybe a bit racist? It was hard to say, considering, unlike humans which were all essentially the same at their core, these weren't just different societies, but peoples with different paths to power. And it wasn't as if that comprised every dragon, or every human for that matter, since there would need to be something other than an Intrinsic Skill if the distinction needed to be made.

Ah, whatever, I'd figure out my morality regarding sapient species another time. Or never, which was more likely, but it was very low on my list of priorities in any case.

"I wish I had a guide for growing my Skill," I half-joked so Rilu didn't feel like he was just rattling off. But I still felt it was my position to say something a bit... more. I didn't have much to comment considering my utter lack of knowledge. In the end, after some awkward silence, I decided to refocus. "So... Why is your status a 'was'?" I asked, a bit strained. Maybe this was a sore subject, and Rilu expected more out of me at this point.

"It was a long process, getting my class. Thankfully, dragons have access to many classes even with the same Skill, since it's a part of our physiology," he said, and I generously let him continue without a question on how what I assumed was fire was a part of their bodies, "this means we can grow it a bit before we take our first Class. Like yours, though we aren't gated off from it entirely beforehand like you seem to be."

I breathed an internal sigh of relief at his response. Perhaps I was doubting my own ability to read social cues as much as he was.

"I think you're trailing off again," I cut in, and he gave me a short cough that was just close enough to apologetic to seem genuine.

"Right, anyway, I didn't agree that dragonkind should be represented in the way a Duelist did as a child. I thought we should be represented through our raw might, that tricks and styles were too cautious to represent what I saw was our essence, what made us unique. But the Class isn't unique to dragons, and its Records aren't compatible with that," he said before pausing and thinking for a moment.

He probably knew I didn't get much of what he said. 

"In essence," Rilu continued, "I got my class with an incompatible skillset. And I, in a position to represent all of dragonkind, became a failure. So I left, not wanting to be hidden away as the shame of my people."

"Fuck, are you sure you should be telling me this?" I ask before really responding, even if I already knew the answer.

"I don't expect you to live through this either."

It still hurt to hear it from him. But, well, I had resolved myself to this fate. At least it was a more interesting way to die than starving or overheating.

"Well... I guess you could say my background is the opposite of yours. No stakes, and no interest in it. A mother I never saw, and a father I rarely did. I spent most of my time in my own little world, involved in fantasies. Fantasies just like my reality. I found those friends because of my daydreaming, and they gradually wormed their way into my heart. Leo, Mason, Autumn, and... Olivia. She's the one who died. She could care for everyone but herself."

I rambled in my reminiscence. It was less than a month ago we were all together, being the entire spectrum of teenage emotion. Dramatic, silly, horny, kind, and most of all passionate. It all felt so far away now.

"And now I'm stranded. And I hate that I got to say goodbye."

I looked down and waited for Rilu to say something. I'd never had to open up to anyone I had known for so little like this. But I was confronting my own mortality here, and it would be better to at least have someone know my love in my final moments. Even if I couldn't die in the company of those on the receiving end.

"Did you... Know you would end up here?" he asked, and I just laughed.

"It's almost like I did. No, I planned to do the same as her," I spat back, my voice tasting dull as it passed my lips. I didn't know what expression to use, so it was just deadpan. The words were an empty weight.

"And you didn't?"

"I'm starting to think I should have. I'd have less to explain, should an afterlife exist."

He laughed at that, and it made me feel a little better. It didn't lighten the mood, nothing could have at this point. Then, his face became serious, moreso than I had seen before, dropping any facade of light adventurousness.

"Yeah," I continued, "I found something to live for, something I still can't really grasp, but something, just as I'm given the reality I had dreamed of."

He probably expected it, the story was leading up to that point, after all.

And he apparently knew very well what he thought.

"And, after going through all that, you want to give up? You don't have enough of a spine to do anything more than whine to me?" Rilu said, anger welling up in his voice. I wondered if he was struggling with the same thing, finding a purpose in life after everything he cared for was taken from him.

It didn't make me feel bad, however harsh it was. Not just because I agreed, and had been thinking that this entire time, but to know there was someone just as stubborn as I am.

And, hell, he was right. I was moving backwards. Rilu still needed something to fight for, but I needed something to fight with.

"But what the hell do I do?" I asked Rilu and Nobody In Particular at the same time.

This time, the latter responded. And they responded with a thin cloud of smoke swimming out from the mountains. The prelude to the Firestorms.


	6. Something to Protect

Leaf beside me and my spirit blazing within me, I knew there was no time for hesitation. I was just Rilu now, but I still had my pride. There was still something I could do. Something that didn't involve leaving someone for death. I knew I should have carried him out before it was too late. Why couldn't I bring myself to swallow what little remained of my pride in exchange for a life?

Why did it still hurt so much to serve others? Why did I think it to be serving, and not altruism? Why did I not see a difference?

I heard Leaf cough beside me.

Why did I want to do this for someone I had barely spoken to?

The cough turned to a fit. My lungs didn't feel tight, though. I could handle this much.

Was my obligation really all I had?

No, it didn't matter now. No hesitation. I could figure out how to get back on track later. I closed my eyes and recited my understanding of my Imprint in my head.

Imprints were based on a Class once one was achieved. It provided a method for growth by making it receptive to Records from the Akashic. Elementary. I imagined it like a filter, a drain with a small connection to every other pool in the universe.

It felt inane to be meditating like this while someone was already having trouble breathing from the contamination in the air beside me, but I let my mind drown out my senses. All there was in my head was that drain.

Next, the container. The shape of my Imprint. The shape of my Skill, specifically. I didn't know about that, 

Ah, this wasn't going to work. I had tried meditation like this before, but it was all too disjointed to fit together. I knew I needed an Image, one compatible with the Records that would allow me to grow, one compatible with my Skill, and one compatible with my Tree. All at the same time.

That simply wasn't going to happen. Because my Skill kept showing how perfect it was for my Class, but it just didn't fit my Tree at all. The precision of my first evolution, Enchant. The explosive force of my second, Burst. The utility of my third, Transfer. All intended for absolute dominance in single combat. And completely irrelevant to the fiber of my soul that sang with calm, steady momentum. My Tree, Power. Something was missing.

And I was about to confuse it even further, tearing the image of my Skill in twain.

But I figured that I'd find something. So, I embraced the power and gave it purpose. I reached for the Power to Protect, and it felt so frustratingly right.

And, like that, it was broken. I couldn't feel a change, I couldn't feel my Imprint, after all, but I could have sworn some part of my existence became smaller and flimsier, bursting at the seams with something trying to escape. That was really just my expectations.

But... I believed it was true. If I could feel my Imprint for just a moment, it would mean I had succeeded. That my makeshift, hasty meditation had allowed me to push my Skill over the edge.

And I had to believe, because that's everything that this was predicated on. I may have fallen down, limited myself to unfulfilled pride. But, well, maybe it could mean something if I could keep something safe with it. If I could allow someone to remain in this universe long enough to reach for the same opportunities that I squandered.

At least, in that moment, so I believed. 

No hesitation.

I held fast and waited, and seized the moment of awakening. This would be... Immensely difficult to get right.

-

I watched between coughs and through tears as Rilu seemed to focus. His breaths got stronger, but he seemed to be doing fine for himself. That was good to see, though not unexpected. 

"Stand back," he stated calmly. At least in his expression, voice, tone, and inflection, he seemed utterly focused. But his voice was a song. Not physically, not even in the impression. But in the way I understood it. The two words were laced with momentous power which I could feel energizing me. It went nowhere, but I could feel something at that moment. I stood back almost subconsciously, stepping behind Rilu.

My attention was pulled away as the power built in more than just his voice. Reality twisted and warped, replacing empty space with a stone plaque bathed in golden light, reflecting back on the darkened mirror that was the flats. I could read the words on it, but I looked away. He would show me when he was ready to. 

He didn't even look, it seemed. He just drew what appeared to be a metallic quarterstaff inscribed with glowing white runes from his satchel.

The runes became rougher and were dyed the same orange red of his eyes. I hadn't seen any sort of feature like that on the other items- I wondered what made this one different.

And then my clarity left me, and I was reduced to coughing again. Holding my eyes shut and breathing into my shirt, fanning it out between breaths as the smoke changed into something akin to a dense fog.

A dense fog that was hot, irritating, and pitch-black, that is.

Then, something seemed to shift in the power I felt, the transition ending. A backflow of it was created toward Rilu as a pressure descended over the area. I couldn't help but open my teary eyes back up.

The red orange of the runes went into overdrive, showing like a torch amidst the smoke, replicating the embers I had seen far off before my vision was obscured.

The torch was emptied, and the pressure mounted. Circuits of now crimson light wove across the ground, disappearing into the black, radiating an intangible heat. Orange began to bubble below the surface.

The circuits readjusted themselves, becoming thinner around me, and glowing slightly brighter on the edges pointing away from me. Avoiding me. Something was going to happen, likely explosive in nature, so I curled up into a ball.

The heated salt beneath me got into my clothes and the salt made me twitch as I coughed and gasped for clean air.

And then, as trite as it is to say, it all went white.

-

The heat was unbearable. I felt as if my skin was going to melt off. This was a different kind of heat to the lethargic burn of the flats in midday, this heat was sharper and corrosive. It tore the edges of my body apart, even if I was away from the worst of it. And the pressure. Oh, god, the pressure, it felt like what I imagine bombs going off in every direction would feel like. I felt like I was in a superheated trash compactor. 

And then it stopped. Out of nowhere, all of the pressure and burning just went away. It left me dry and singed. I couldn't open my eyes once more, but my coughs begin to result in more and more air flowing into my lungs. I felt like death, but the pain was beginning to pass.

I felt cool water pour over me, and god, it was horrible. I needed it so bad, but it only served to increase my sensitivity to the pain I was in. The sudden chill invaded my body, and, contrary to what I had believed up until this point, hot and cold were not mutually exclusive feelings by any means.

Well, I suppose I then knew what being bathed in acid felt like. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.

Still, it was better for me, in the end, to stop my skin from cracking and whatnot. I didn't actually know what would happen, but I had seen enough in movies...

And my mind was wandering again. Oh well, maybe that was a sign I was doing better. I tried to speak, to tell Rilu I was alright, but the words seemed to ring hollow. My ears were still ringing and burnt all around, and my lungs couldn't produce the air for even a whisper. So, it was just wheezing and coughs, while I was deprived of every sense except for pain. 

I don't know how long I was out. The only sense of time I had was the water coming back once in a while, but even that seemed to stop after a bit. Something was wrong, I knew it, but I was still battered and broken.

Eventually, I did get some bandages, probably when Rilu had the time to dedicate to it. He had to have been keeping the smoke out somehow. Maybe that was why the water was taking so long.

But that began to seem less right after feeling sympathy projected at me through my Imprint. It was difficult to be precise without hearing the words themselves, I had found (no automatic telepathy here), but I could get the gist.

And the gist became a bit clearer when I felt the canteen enter one of my hands. Somehow, for one reason or another, Rilu couldn't use it. Maybe he needed to use a different Catalyst to keep out the smoke.

There were very obvious problems with that theory, but I just needed to go with it. If I wanted to recover, I would need to figure out how to use the canteen on my own.

But it was possible if he had given it to me. It had to be.

And even if it was a vain hope, it wasn't like I was supposed to have lasted this long regardless.

So I would try my best, as that's all I could do, and that's all I had been doing.

I felt for the ever more distant feeling of my Imprint. It felt chaotic and going against how it should be functioning. In trying to control it, I must have messed something up, rather than my previous assumption of just being more used to its existence and growing blind to it. But I did have an idea.

Contrary to what my lips wanted, I began to imagine a flame. Even imagining the heat made my head feel light, but I used the same fire to push through. It was warm, but it wasn't a sharp or oppressive or painful heat. It was the heat of an engine, an invigorating fire that was my drive forward. I felt the heat, I felt the intensity, and I grabbed the best parts of it...

And it still felt wrong. I was missing something, and I had at most ten minutes before I passed out, for the last time. Being on the brink of death so often has to be bad for my health.

Well, mental health. I didn't think there was much room for debate on near-death being bad for physical health, bar maybe some strange schools of philosophy.

And my thoughts were wandering again. I mentally slapped my cheeks to pull myself back together, if I didn't figure this out, I was going to die. Once again on the edge, held against my will on the brink of oblivion.

However, this time, I was in control. 

I just needed to keep pushing. Keep going. I had to keep on fighting.

I thought back to every tiny detail I had seen mentioned, the process of Attunement. For me, the first step was finding my Imprint and shaping it, that was my only lead, the only advantage I could perceive that I had. 

The shape of my Imprint was unimportant. It didn't matter if it were shaped like a flame or a world or a literal piece of garbage. What got me closer, as I felt it, was always behavior.

The flame I envisioned my Imprint as... Constantly in flux, constantly in motion, swirling and crackling. It was something, but there was a focus it was missing. It was chaotic, but between all of it was something that my mind, or maybe my Skill, kept leading me toward. The process involved connecting to a Catalyst.

I tried working backward. I had heard to connect to a Catalyst you need to keep feeling it, able to push it around. Connection was about compatibility. 

I don't know how it came to me. I think it was my skill, but my thoughts wandered to the word 'resonance', and it seemed to all click. I thought back to the rhythm that shook my soul as Rilu spoke as the air was filled with his power.

My Imprint could interact with other Imprints. I didn't have a shape I could identify yet, but when I tried to oscillate that strange boundary of existence in the same way I had felt as Rilu did it, I could begin to feel the world around me a bit, and a strong disturbance around the canteen. 

I didn't have the hang of it at all, and it was immensely unstable, but the clarity I felt at first had returned. And, just for a moment, I managed to hit the right frequency around the disturbance.

And it filled up halfway. With no fanfare, mind you. No sound effects for a successful attunement. Still, even without that, I would have jumped for joy if I were capable of jumping at that point. Instead, I made a small whimper and what I hoped was a distinctly triumphant twitch in my fetal position. 

A bit pathetic, but if I had water, I would survive. And that was what mattered because here, here I had won. At least for now.

I managed to move my arm enough that I could begin to drink, and refilling it was only easier the second time. It still took time, though. I would imagine people normally didn't actively attune like this, since they lack Visualization's properties. So, there was a bit more time required, though as people sometimes apparently needed months to Attune to a Catalyst, I couldn't complain about that.

That was the beginning of my cycle of restless sleep and waking dreams, of mind-melting heat and ever-necessary water that only made me further realize my own pain.

It was funny. Living on lately had become the hardest thing I'd ever done.

But, fuck, I hadn't given up just yet. I had kept the promise I made to myself. And that was enough.

The first words I had spoken since the explosions wormed their way out of my lungs in one of my myriad fleeting moments of awakedness.

"Thank you."


	7. Through the Ember

The sleep reminded me of the dream I had when I first arrived. Falling under the water lazily, only to occasionally float back to the top, taking a deep breath of clarity. These moments were fleeting, and, ironically, I used them to give myself some water. I was back under the depths quickly. But I felt the water growing shallower. The moments of clarity growing from a warm haze of humid self-awareness to hollow echoes of perception. I believe it goes without saying, but I had never been through anything so dangerous up until that point- the closest I had ever come to death was when my mother crashed into a deer back in 3rd grade.

And, even then, the windshield didn't even break. I flashed back to the looks we got when we drove into school with the front of our car destroyed and leaking smoke. There was a very fun story to tell that day. Or many of them, considering how much I liked to embellish and how gullible children were. 

And I was allowing my mind to wander again. But I could at least reminisce. I could think.

The first step I needed to take was to remember how to feel things. I had 'sensations' at the moment, but no perception. It was all vague feelings I couldn't process into comfort or discomfort. The feelings were simply there, with no context or meaning. I lived life in my head, but this was something else entirely. It wasn't simply feeling disconnected from my body, it was as if I didn't have one at all.

A while ago it would have been comforting. But my resolve against myself from that while ago brought me a sense of dread that overpowered it. It was that dread that was the impetus to understanding again.

First came proprioception. I still had this one, to an extent, on instinct. I wouldn't have been able to drink water or understand I was thirsty otherwise. But it slowly became a bit more distinct than a tool in muscle memory, a sense of myself I could actually consult. I began to realize my arm was wrapped around something, and that I was moving forward, up, and down slowly. Rilu must have been carrying me, but why? He didn't before. If he did, couldn't this entire thing have been avoided? `Why would he do this now?

I calmed down and internally breathed (I was not in good control of my lungs, so I just made the closest approximation to meditative breath in my head). I didn't know his reasoning, and I could not ask for more. He had done too much for me. Even if it was for a malicious reason, I would need to respect it. I would have been dead long ago without him regardless.

Then came temperature, quite long after. I could recognize it was hot, the nerves intended for processing heat and cold giving me that exceptionally basic input. I did begin to differentiate it in areas. Most of my body was surrounded by an almost biting heat, the same corrosive sort I had felt earlier, though less painful. In my hand, though, there was something cool. The canteen. 

My vision was black and my ears and nose full of ash, but I began to taste. Not much, mind you, but my tongue was no longer too numb and dry to relay to me what the hot air tasted like. It wasn't exactly vivid, but the vague and smoky taste in my mouth gave me something to center myself on.

Something to center me on enough to begin feeling the pain. Which wasn't much, actually. It was just a lot of burns and scratches, and the things I felt were still 99% TV static. I would be in constant pain soon enough, that much I knew, but I wasn't quite yet. 

And, for a long time, that was all. Until my cycles stopped once more.

-

Leaf had been out for a day. Even just mere minutes in the ash had done such a number on him. Despite myself, I found myself hoping for there to be no permanent damage.

Well, it wasn't 'despite myself' anymore, was it? I had saved him, I had evolved my Skill for him, and now I was carrying him. *I*, a dragon, was carrying another being. 

And the worst part was that I look back on what happened, on the entire situation, and everything I did and felt throughout. I stare in retrospect only to find this is the one time where I wouldn't have done anything differently. Where I do not wish to change the past, however much pain doing this has caused me. For the sake of somebody I don't even know. 

And my biggest worry wasn't even about why I did it, but what the reasoning that felt so right meant about me. The questions on my mind spiraled. 

Who was I?

I nearly stomped on the ground, but I knew to sustain the barrier I would need to minimize the use of my Imprint. It was too easy to lose connection to this amount of power, especially power so unstable. Power was released from growth in an awakening, power that shouldn't exist. 

I looked at said barrier. A red-orange dome that crackled with yellow sparks. Swirling in an imperceptible cycle. It warded off a billowing pitch black. 

I stepped onto stone from salt, relieved at stable ground to stand on. I wasn't tired- this was not strenuous for someone such as I- but it was nice to feel less up in the air. To know my orientation remained true, even without sight. Now, I knew the direction to head in again, and I was approaching the worldbridge. I hoped that we would come across a Forgebreaker on our way out, but finding any early birds was unlikely. Any who could move fast enough to have arrived would most likely be too capable of flight or too fast to catch them in the smoke. Along with being too powerful to actually care.

I imagined it to be a week's journey if they didn't rest. But if Leaf could regain some strength, there was a new option that came with his Skill Evolution.

I sat down and lay Leaf beside a rock, before I focused and waved upward, summoning my Manifestation. A stone tablet rumbled into existence, and I finally got the chance to read the carved in letters and numbers.

-  
Rilu  
Level 19 Duelist  
-

I allowed my eyes to wander past the title card, down a few categories, until I got to the word 'Protector of the First Flame: 1/10'. That wasn't good news, the name of a skill tended to only change when you found your own path for it, be it through a unique development or an entire evolution.

-  
Skill Levels  
(0 Points Available)

Output: 6/10  
Shifting: [Immutable, Rank 4]

Enchant: 2/10  
Burst: 4/10  
Transfer: 3/10  
Solidify: 1/10  
-

I was disappointed but unsurprised. It wasn't a full evolution, just an upgrade. I supposed that I still needed to figure some things out before a full upgrade. 

I could feel I was close, though... Having a 4th Class Skill before Second Class wasn't unheard of, but it was close to. If I could get it to Tier 1 alongside that, I could receive a title. Then... I could have one last chance to bring it all back together until Second Class.

It was unlikely, but less likely things had happened to me. The me who sought out reality's miscalculations. The me who tried to make it his strength.

Just a little bit further.

-

I would say I woke up, but that would have been a bit of an overstatement. Although, oddly enough, I found that I could move. I suppose I had been out for a day and most of the ash and smoke was out of my system, but I was surprised at how quickly I had... I didn't want to say recovered, but I was a lot better. I still felt like death, mind you, with sores and marks all over inside and out, but there were blurry images in my sight, it was no longer pure darkness. And I could hear more than ringing. And I could smell. Only smoke, of course, but it was an improvement.

I was stable. I would be able to make it out alive. At least, I hoped so. The colors I saw were that of flame and darkness, which wasn't particularly comforting. I appeared to be safe regardless, and the heat wasn't unbearable if I kept to the ground. I tried to get out more words, but my adrenaline had run dry. I couldn't do more than cough before taking a long sip of water.

Yesterday, I suppose, the injury had seemed like the worst thing imaginable. But perhaps I was biased in assessing my condition. After all, I had never experienced something at that level before.

Well, nothing I could figure out then and there. Hell, I didn't even have the lungs to ask Rilu about it, on top of being unsure whether or not it was natural.

"If you can hear me, tap the stone," Rilu asked. At least, it was probably Rilu, the voice sounded fuzzy and far away, drowned out amidst the ringing. As if I were underwater, listening to someone try to speak to me from the surface. My head was spinning, but I managed to pull myself together enough to give a tap about 15 seconds later.

I couldn't tell from his tone, for obvious reasons. but the aura of his words through my Imprint appeared to carry exasperation. Apparently, he had tried communicating with me often. With my response, he spoke again.

"Don't tap if you don't understand the question, tap once for yes, tap twice for no, and tap thrice if you get the question and don't know the answer. Tap once if you understand."

One tap. The stone felt cold against my skin, but it was still indistinct. Like the cold could have been in many places on my body, and even if I knew it was on my finger, I didn't internalize it to my senses. It was more knowledge than perception. It was a strange feeling and one that was entirely unpleasant.

"Alright. Do you think you'll be ready to walk in four days at this rate?"

3 taps.

"Then I'll keep heading forward in case you can't. It'll make recovery harder, though. We're about at the Worldbridge, which means 4 days until we reach the outer bounds of the storms. I checked so I don't think so, but I don't have the skills to assess brain damage or organ failure. Do you think you are in any sort of critical condition?"

Two taps. It was more an 'I don't think so' than a 'no', so maybe it would have been better to play it safe. But by the time I realized he was probably asking his question because he had something he could do about that, I had already responded.

Either I sustained brain damage or I was just that stupid. I knew people who would have bet money on the latter, most of whom people I love and trust. Thus, I left it at that. I would say I hoped I didn't mess up somehow and die, but that would imply that same hope hadn't been running full force for the past 48 hours at least.

"Alright, time for another day of walking. Don't try to open your eyes more. You need to spend that energy to recover. And, trust me, there is not much to see."

-

On the first day, I did nothing but rest. It felt like the canteen was growing into my hand, I had been grasping it for so long. I did not feel much better.

On the second, I had made some progress. My burns felt a bit healed, and I began to be able to form simple sentences for short periods of time. It was a very long day. I ultimately didn't learn as much as I had hoped to, so it was a very long day with little progress in healing. I told Rilu I wouldn't try much the next day.

I managed to keep my promise. Day 3 saw me feeling far better, and I could feel that some of my scabs were growing smaller. I could probably have spoken in full sentences, but I knew I had to take it easy, however bored I got.

On the fourth day, I could speak and breathe again. I could walk, but not very well.

I don't know how it started, maybe just a natural evolution of being alone together on the road. But we began telling stories.


	8. Eye of the Storm

I had finished vaguely recounting something I had read in an Elias Canetti book when Rilu told me of his conflict, that his power was falling apart at the seams. Olivia always saw unraveling as a good thing, but here it seemed to be a bit more tangible than a transition beyond an emotional or social prison, so I had little advice to give. I didn't understand all of it, but I could gather that his power had gained a protective aspect, which was at odds with the way in which Rilu's class showed he needed to represent his people. 

Despite how bad I was at telling stories, with all my awkwardness and constant water breaks, I was still getting through to him.

At first, I thought he was just weak, or that Visualization was helping streamline my process of expression (which, mind you, it very well still could have been), but that was only before I heard a legend about dragons Rilu told me in return. 

I could then understand why he was reluctant for me to tell stories at first, why he thought that fiction was worthless and intrinsically less interesting than reality. After all, the real world(s?) existed in dimensions and dynamics only Laplace's Demon could hope to unravel. I also understood why he disagreed with my point that being able to extrapolate that complexity to express oneself could be just as complex and insightful if you looked deeper.

Because, holy fuck, it was the most soulless story I had ever heard, and he told it as a classic. It could have been no longer than three or four paragraphs, and I think saying the line 'dragons make good planet shield, other races look on in awe and reverence' is more engaging than what it was. Rilu did tell me that the story was entirely fake as a way for the emergent dragon society to explain why the other species they communicated with had few members capable of entry, which is what really made me get his perspective on fiction.

I think my pity was too obvious, since he seemed quite angry, especially when I took it as a chance to essentially brag about how important the hypothetical and fiction was to the collective consciousness of humanity. 

We both reached the conclusion that either literature there hadn't been tried again for likely thousands of years, or, civilization-wise, the dragons grew up very quickly. I don't think I need to explain that he was reluctant and unhappy to make the former concession. But I verified that Dragons had been around for a very long time, maybe just a bit shorter than humans, at least at the Dragons' current level of evolution. It seemed to be known, but Rilu had no knowledge of what exactly evolution was, explaining it with a 'because magic'.

And, at this point, I was actually inclined to believe him. Because there was no way that they were advanced enough to know of evolution in its non-magical state, what with how long that took, after the following conversation:

-

"What are... 'cells'?" Rilu asked, to my surprise. The clothes he wore seemed... Not modern, but a bit nicer than what I'd expect from before at least the 1700s. Then again, he was nobility.

"Hm. I failed biology, so I may be lying to you, but they're called 'the building blocks of life'. They're basically semi-autonomous organisms too small to be visible that make up your body. They are what you are, so it's hard to call them organisms, honestly..."

I was quickly interrupted.

"I thought your world didn't have magic? What can this 'study of life' do? Is it something like using life energy?" he interjected, to my surprise. This seemed like such standard information, explaining it to someone I saw as my age was surreal.

"Oh, uh, this isn't supernatural in nature. You can't do anything with it. Well, at least not as far as we got, we were looking for ways to engineer immortality or something."

"I thought you said you weren't religious?"

"I'm... Not? I think it would be pretty stuck up to join a cult that worships ourselves."

"Look, I'm not interested in your beliefs. I will respect them, for I get that the First Flame's church is not easy to digest immediately, but..."

I didn't bother with it past that point and began to tune him out until he was done. With Rilu, he would either go on an interesting and educational diatribe or a repetitive cycle of the allegedly signature Draconic pride. I liked to believe I had become quite good at identifying and subsequently tuning out the latter.

Still, even if it did sound like a religious pitch to someone without Enlightenment-era-tier background on the sciences, perhaps another people, perhaps seen as a cult, were responsible... With magic existing, engineers seeming like or even becoming tech-worshippers didn't seem too farfetched. I wrote that down in my mental notes for later.

-

I certainly liked the idea of becoming this species' Charles Darwin. However, not only did magic add another dynamic to research before I could fully present the theory of evolution, but dragons did not seem to be the sort to like being told they were wrong. Even moreso than the average human.

Yes, having thoughts like that still did make me feel racist. 

Regardless, his mention of the church of the First Flame reminded me of a certain story from Earth. Perhaps it could help him. 

-

"There's this one story I want to tell you, but I don't quite remember how it goes," I spoke suddenly, trying to recover the momentum that allowed for our conversations the day prior.

It was the next day, and I was still riding on Rilu's back. The better I felt, the less bearable the heat became. Our protective dome of flames continued to whirl monotonously around us. Even if we were technically moving, it didn't feel like it. I felt suspended in liminal space. Considering the ash outside of the fiery stained-glasslike protective barrier looked remarkably similar to an endless void, I don't think that anyone could blame me.

"Tell it how you'd tell it, I know you weren't sure about a lot of the others. I think I had the most fun when you just went with it," Rilu replied after a moment, still pausing at the word 'fun' despite what I assumed to be a consideration before he spoke...

"Those I still remembered, though perhaps not well. This one I haven't read, I just have some recollection of it from references to it in other stories."

"Do you wish to take some time to think?"

"Eh, I'll just jump in. Don't make fun of me for any awkward silences."

I couldn't see his face, but I just knew Rilu made a faux-mischievous grin at that. "No promises," he chortled.

"So, uh, in this story, there's like a really big mountain. I'm not sure how big, exactly, I never really knew much about the setting, but this mountain belongs to the gods. Again, not exactly sure what the gods are, but they're something like higher beings," 

"You're doing it again," Rilu interjected, which frustrated me. I promised myself I would parrot him the next time he rambled on, but deep down I knew I wasn't the sort of person who really would.

"Right, right. Anyway, there were also Titans, which were the creators of the planet, the gods, and humans. I think they were like super-gods, but they also lost in the war against them..."

"Leaf."

I felt a bit warm at being called Leaf, which I admonished myself for, before continuing. 

"Shh, this is at least important. This story happens before that war. The Titan who created humanity in these myths was known as Prometheus, which means something like 'foresight'. Actually, depending on what you're looking at, it may have been one of his sons. But Prometheus is always seen giving gifts to humanity. Some say these actions are out of love, some say it's out of pity, and some say it's out of defiance. This story is emblematic of all three."

First, I'll need to explain the significance of fire. I'm not sure what it is to Dragons, of which most can actually control it, but for humanity, it was what allowed us to advance. It's what kept us warm, cooked us food, and what allowed us to explore the sky."

This time, Rilu had something to say. "It's similar with us, though many species grew using native planetary resources or their own abilities. Our fire is the latter, although many species use it as we do without magic."

"Right. So, in the version I know, there could be another, Prometheus saw humanity struggling and living like animals. That is our origin, but for one or many of the reasons I mentioned earlier, he decided to give us the greatest gift he could to change our fate. He raided the forge of this mountain, and stole Fire, and gave it as his final gift to humanity. One of the powers of the gods in our hands. I like to think that we eventually surpassed them, just as the gods did the titans."

"I think that this fire stolen from the gods represents the spirit of... Not simply humanity, but sapient beings in general. Which is a strange distinction to make. I don't really know how, but it let us grow and change."

He nodded, without any questions. Thank fuck, he could understand hypotheticals and devices. Or maybe he genuinely thought of fire as its own sort of existence. Either way, he hopefully had picked up on what the story was about.

"I suppose that this defiant gift is something we protect, embody, and use as an impetus to move forward."

"Uh.. Yeah, that," I blurted back without thinking. Apparently, he understood it better than I did. Hopefully, that meant that the story struck a chord with his struggles and values.

There was silence, but a small lick of a ghastly violet flame, a color I hadn't seen before, flickered out of the barrier. I don't think Rilu saw it, but after watching its motion and seeking its heat, I felt a bit more awake. I wondered if I had helped, but I knew I couldn't give him the answer. Supernatural powers were supernatural powers, but if they worked off of or were anything like emotions, everyone had their own answer. And, even if such a thing could be done, I knew I didn't tell the story well enough to.

So we kept going, past rock and salt, in our own little pocket of reality, a hearth that staved away the venomous darkness.

-

I think it's worth mentioning that even if I adjusted a bit, the heat and pressure never became anything even close to bearable. It only felt like a relief when compared to what I knew was waiting just outside. Where these hellish conditions meant sanctuary. Strangely, that concept didn't seem too foreign. 

With that said, I began to walk the day after. It was difficult, but I could begin to see the outside billow and whirl, rather than appearing as a stagnant and inky blackness. I knew we were getting close, and Rilu hadn't spoken. He seemed strained and focused, and I wanted to lighten that load. Although, given how little effort it appeared to take to carry me with how gentle his grip was, I doubted it was much more than symbolic. Sometimes, smoke would seep in and rise to the top now, but I had learned to trust in Rilu at his best.

Strangely, my head felt clearer. I assumed the added vividness and sense of the canteen was my Skill developing, but my limbs felt more energized as well. Sure, I had been getting more exercise than I had ever had before in my life, but I was missing the recovery process. Something was wrong, perhaps the Catalyst had some sort of super-water in it. But I didn't think cool water energizing me when it touched my lips was particularly inexplicable in this situation.

The only thing Rilu had said all day was that we probably had a day left. Both before we could make it out, and before he could no longer maintain the barrier. He had said he could maintain it almost indefinitely before, so either something had changed or he had been acting tough. I'd believe both. He probably wouldn't admit to either.

-

The smoke had receded back to an ashen mist, occasionally pulsing back to consume us once more. But it seemed further and further away each time. Now, I could taste it in my mouth again. Enough smoke had entered our barrier. But it was only at the level of the bushfires we sometimes had back home- not a problem, so long as I didn't cough too much. It still wasn't livable, sure, but I knew we would make it there soon as the rock under my feet was replaced with gravel.

The embered gravel turned to scorched grass. Rilu was beside me, his eyes closed tight in absolute concentration. But I could have sworn that I saw his mouth twitch upward slightly as his feet touched the dried and razed plant life.

-

Hours later, I looked behind me. A funneling tower of darkness tinged with red haze glared back. I could see clearly, only the edges grasping out toward Rilu and I.

A level of joy and relief I hadn't felt before and never thought I would feel again built up beneath the surface before it culminated and was released in a triumphant cheer.

Rilu just dropped the barrier and toppled over, making me feel bad about celebrating. It was a grim reminder that I had caused this.

But that didn't matter now.

We had made it.


End file.
